Generations: Alaya Forrest
by Ghostie69
Summary: Alaya is a sixth form student. On a normal day, she is met by a new student, a smooth, arrogant, good-looking rebellious guy. Is there more to him than meets the eye?


**A/N**** This is my take on the fanfic that Rougeification has decided to write. This will be from my OC's POV and will include Rougie's OC Elliott and Neveyg's OC Jayda. Doing this will hopefully encourage people to read our fic. Reviews, ideas, etc are always appreciated. Thanks everyone.**

Well, it had been a pretty shite day today, as per, at Waterloo Road. To be honest, when my auntie told me I was coming here, I wasn't really keen on the idea to say the least, but I never really had a choice. I've lived with my auntie since my mum died and my dad walked out. I just sort of learned to go along with my auntie. I don't really like aggro. I'd had maths with Mr Lawson first, which was alright, I don't mind the lesson, just pissheads like Bolton Smilie and his gang of cronies. Mr Lawson's actually pretty decent. I had a free period after that, which I was quite grateful for, cause my head was absolutely pounding. I was standing in the common room just talking to Jayda. I wasn't really interested in what she was talking about; I'm not really keen on shopping g and stuff. Never have been really. However something or someone else caught my attention when I looked around the common room and saw a guy standing there, in his blazer collar turned up, wearing skinny jeans and vans. To be honest he wasn't actually that bad looking. I realised Jayda was talking to me. I snapped out of my fantasy land and just happened to drop all my notes a t the same time. Great, I've probably just embarrassed myself in front of the new boy, who actually is the probably the best looking boy in the whole school. He started to walk over to me, grinning. Great. I couldn't really be bothered with any sarcasm. He knelt sown beside me, a helped me pick them up. I was met with "Aren't folders supposed to hold the notes". Oh, sarcastic. Brilliant. I looked up at him, and was met with a pair of the softest, tired looking dark green eyes, a complete difference to his hard looking and stony face. "Apparently not." I replied, with a polite smile.  
He looked at me questioningly. "You've got a lot of notes considering we haven't got a lesson yet."  
I realised that I did look a bit keen, but I didn't want to make it obvious. "Just taking an early start." I replied. I smiled slightly at him, and stood up, smoothing my skirt down my thighs, cause I needed to and i felt a little awkward with him. I muttered a breathless thanks and he passed me my notes. "You're Elliott, I'm guessing"?" I asked. He laughed at that and nodded.  
"Yeah, I was sort off introduced." It went silent. After a few moments, I realised he was waiting for me to say my name. I flushed red. "Oh, I'm Alaya." I finally said. He smiled. It was actually quite beautiful. His smile, I mean.  
"Hi, Alaya" he said. "Do you know where Ms. Grainger's classroom is?" I nodded. "Sure, follow me."  
We walked down the corridor side by side in total silence, apart from a few thanks I gave him for holding the door open. To be honest, I didn't really know what to make of him. He probably thought I was really shy and timid, or something. I can normally gauge people; but there was something about him I couldn't put my finger on. I decided to make conversation, to sort of ease the awkwardness between us. "So you took English then?"  
"No, I just enjoy sitting in the classrooms" he responded, with a straight face. My first impression was actually that he was a bit of an arse, but there was something I found quite intriguing. Finally, we reached the classroom, and Jaya caught my eye to sit in the seat next to her. I don't think I could stay with him much longer. It was getting well too awkward. He moved to the row further back and sat down at the empty desk. Hmm, I'll have to see how this pans out. Our teacher eventually arrived. "Alright class, calm down," she said. She was confident, but I did feel for her, being a new teacher and having a class like us lot to teach. She must be quite nervous. "My name is Ms. Grainger. Now, we're going to be studying Shakespeare." There was a collective groan from the class, mine quite loud. I sucked at Shakespeare. We had never quite clicked. I don't think we were really meant for each other. Really, I don't think Shakespeare's meant for anyone, apart from Mr. Dusty Cupboard. I just turned my head around slightly to notice that Elliott was reading NME. Rebel. He glanced up and I don't think I've ever turned my head so fast. Whiplash alert. "You at the back" I heard Ms. Grainger say. She had obviously noticed he was up to no good. She walked over to him and took his magazine. I laughed internally. Now he had to suffer like the rest of us. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Jayda had turned around and now was talking to Elliott. I heard little snippets of their conversation, like "kicked out". I did try to hide the fact that I was actually quite interested in their conversation, but I don't think it was working, cause Elliott flickered his gaze towards me for a few fleeting seconds, fascinated, but quickly turned back to Jayda. I smiled internally again, cause Miss had just shouted at her for flirting. Yeah, Jayda, stop flirting. Miss picked Elliott to answer her question, and I was shocked at his reply. Behind this thing that I can't put my finger on, like a mask, he was actually really intelligent. "Alright, I want you all to couple up, and go through the following scene together, and pick out parts of the scene that you think reveal Edmund's intentions" she said. Damn. Just what I had hoped wouldn't happen, cause I didn't want him to see how thick I was, Elliott leaned forwards towards me, and asked to couple up. "Couple up?" he said, flashing me a beautiful smile. "What?" I turned to him, confused.

"You and me? Couple up?" I was silent for a moment, looking at him, utterly bemused.

"Working together?" I realised what he meant finally.

"Oh - yeah sure." He smiled and moved up to the desk beside me, sitting on it.

"Do you get any of this?" he asked. I flushed quite red. It was so hot in here.

"I thought it was quite complicated..." I said with a nervous smile that he couldn't help but return.

"It's Shakespeare, not Russian." He took my own copy from my desk and flipped it open. "See, here Lear is saying "nothing shall come of nothing"-"

"Well, I got that bit."

"So, what didn't you get?"

"Nothing." I said, hesitating. "The monologue bit." I answered after a moment.

"Which monologue - it's a pretty big play..."

"The bit where the guy comes on and talks about being a bastard."

"Edmund." He acknowledged the character. "He's talking about being born out of wedlock."

"That's it?"

"And then there's the whole betraying-his-family plot, but pretty much." I let out a small chuckle. "You know, if you want, I could tutor you a bit on it." I was hesitant. Did I want him tutoring me? I don't know, but I could use the help. "Free of charge." He grinned once more.

"I don't need tutoring thanks." I looked down at the book. He bit his lip, quite deep in thought. "Well, how about you just come round tonight then?" I looked up at him. "Tonight?" I repeated cautiously.

"Don't have anything else going on, do you?" I paused, mulling it over. I didn't really want to, I had other stuff going on, but I suppose, and I don't have anything to lose. I finally shook my head. "Great" he said. "I'll give you my number later on? I'll text you the address." She nodded.

An alright end to a shit day.

I rang the doorbell, feeling quite nervous. He opened the front door, and made way for me to enter. "Hey" he smiled. "Find it alright?"

"Yeah thanks" I smiled, coming into the house. "Your house is _really_ nice."

He smiled. "Thanks – do you want to come through?"

"Should I take off my shoes?" I asked, gesturing to her pair of converses. He grinned at the idea. "Why would you need to do that?" I paused for a moment to think and then chuckled nervously. We turned to walk up the stairs, only to find that someone who must be his was blocking the way, holding a glass of wine. He looked between me and Elliott. "I thought I heard voices." He said with a smile. "I'm glad that my boy is making friends. Are you going to introduce us, Elliott?" He said, and this seemed to frustrate Elliott.

"We're going to my room." He stated.

He turned to me. "You'll have to forgive his manners." He stated. "It's not been easy for us - we moved around a lot. Then of course, last year-"

"Shut up." Elliott cut him off. His dad paused, looking again at him with a stern face.

"But I'm sure things will be better at Waterloo Road." He was staring determinedly at the floor. There was an awkward pause in which I chose to break the silence. "I'm... sure they will Mr. Cian."

His face softened, and he turned back to me. "And what's your name?"

"Alaya." I said with a polite smile.

"Pretty name for a pretty face."

"Can't you just piss off?" Elliott finally burst out - just before I could say thank him. His dad looked between us both and then nodded once, exiting into the lounge. He turned back around to me. "My room's up here." I nodded, with a plain expression.

We reached the top of the stairs and he opened the door, admitting me to the room. He smiled and turned around. "Here it is." My jaw just dropped.

"You sleep in here?" I asked.

"Amongst other things." He said, walking behind his pool table and examining the many bottles on the shelf. "Do you want a drink?"

"A drink?"

"Yeah. Rum, Whisky, Vodka, Gin... I think I might have some Tequila somewhere..."

"Can I just have a coke?" I asked. He nodded, genuinely smiling.

"Sure."

"Actually, you choose." He nodded hesitantly, unsure of why I'd changed my mind. I didn't really want to look boring. Jayda had told me that before. Lighten up, and the like.

"Rum and coke" He decided, and turned around to make the drink. He poured himself straight whiskey, and turned around with the drinks, handing me mine. He sipped some of his, his eyes falling past my face and onto the pool table behind me. "Do you fancy playing a bit?" I wasn't really keen. I'm crap at pool, like most things. "Oh, I'm not very good."

"Yeah yeah, they all say that." He rolled his eyes, moving over to the table and handing me a cue and then began to set up the table.

"How does your dad let you talk to him like that?" I asked, it had been burning in my head for sometime now. He shrugged.

"Well, he's lucky I talk to him at all." He was finding it hard to keep up the smile he had when he talked about his family. He was lucky to have family, however terrible.

"Well, isn't he going to give you a hard time-"

"Just forget about it Alaya, yeah?" He said eventually, cutting me off completely. I went silent, not wanting to upset him anymore than I most likely already have done. "This is all my space - he doesn't need to be in here." I could tell he was trying to keep a cool head, but I had obviously touched a nerve of some kind. He took a mouthful of his whisky and proceeded to take a cue and start playing pool. In no time at all, I was losing – I did sort of say I wasn't very good. He turned to me, making my breath catch just a little. "You really are awful at pool." He stated.

"I did try to tell you." I giggled. He smiled at me, a genuine smile. It came across like it had been a long time since he smiled properly. He put his glass down and moved closer to me. I started to feel very hot, and hopefully he couldn't hear by breath hitching. There was something about him that really got me. He cupped my face in his hands, and moved in for a kiss. His lips met with mine, and it was pure bliss. I "sank down" a bit, I think that was the alcohol. He moved his hands to my waist, and lifted me onto the table. I could hear the music from the hi-fi in the background, pacing our kiss. He shrugged off his shirt, but I suddenly felt the stirring of sickness in my stomach. He noticed that my hands were less active, sensing something was up, and pulled away. "Are you okay-?" he asked, but I didn't have time to answer, because I was going to throw up. I dashed out of the room, and straight to his bathroom, where I instantly put my head in the toilet. Flattering, I know, and I'm sure he could hear me. He come him, and I heard him mutter, "Ah,shit" under his breath. Great, I've probably made myself look like a right tit. I tried to apologise to him as he walked over, my voice, coming out a bit drowsy and muffled. He held my hair behind my head, and started to rub my back, which was really sweet of him actually. He took his phone out, and tried to call a cab for me. I say tried, cause it's probably quite hard talking over me throwing up, and the fact that I couldn't really speak properly. He finally got my address, and when the cab arrived, helped me into it. I felt so bad. Elliott had been brilliant all night, and I had gone and made a proper idiot of myself, throwing up in his toilet. He probably never wanted to see me, and to be honest I don't blame him. I think I'm just going to avoid him. I can't face the embarrassment. Uh, I always managed to find a way to make myself look like a dick. I wouldn't be me if I didn't. I'm just going to sleep it off, and brace myself for the torrents of teasing tomorrow, especially from Jayda. How fun.


End file.
